Serves Me Right
by Acinne
Summary: Aidan Ward is accepted into Mount Massive Asylum after being accused of murdering his girlfriend's cousin after threats of her telling what exactly he'd done to them. Pledging insanity during the trial, it is decided that he is to spend the rest of his life locked up in the Asylum, getting treated. Little does he know going prison would actually seem like paradise.


Looking down at his restraints, Aidan Ward quickly forced himself to close his eyes, expecting the worst to come – just like last time.

This was supposed to be the second session where they forced the swiftly flashing images upon his eyes, making his head hurt unbelievably hard and even giving him hallucinations, calling it "therapy".

They had told him this would help with the mental state of his mind and make him feel much better. God, he had a feeling they knew there was nothing wrong with him and that they were just sadistic sons of bitches. How was this even supposed to help him? He was barely conscious after the first time they forced him through the so-called "therapy session".

He couldn't help but close his eyes, unconsciously gritting his teeth waiting for something – anything, but much to his surprise (and relief) nothing happened. He didn't dare move the first few minutes, thinking that they were just testing him.

A while after that he slowly opened his left eye, nervously looking around the cell. He could still see the white screens, making his stomach drop, but this time there was nothing on them. Slowly, he opened his other eye as his breathing calmed, even though he didn't let his guard down. He was so confused.

Why hadn't a doctor come in already?

Why didn't he feel the foreign agonizing pain that had left its mark on his mind and sanity the first time?

Giving out a shaky sigh, he dug his nails into the chair he was strapped on trying to move himself. He barely managed to shift before resting his back against it because he was so damn tired from everything they had done to him there, even though he got there barely a week ago.

"Come on..." he quietly spoke through grit teeth to the empty room, "Just get on with it already, you douchebags."

He nervously shifted, slowly breathing in and letting it out to try to calm himself down.

Just after he found peace inside his mind and even managed to slightly doze off, the restraints around his wrists and ankles suddenly disappeared, making him jump from the quick action. He stood there frozen, staring at his hands with wide eyes – both from fear and excitement. Were they letting him go?

Cautiously, he moved them in front of his face and carefully studied them as if they were the most important things in the universe. Giving a few test kicks to the air, he realized he could also move his legs now too and couldn't help the wide grin spreading across his face. He didn't want to let himself think too much about what was happening. They were just releasing him without any bullshit therapy sessions and he could give less of a damn about the reasoning behind it anymore.

Aidan slowly stood up, supporting himself with the arm rests and took a quick glance at the adjacent cell, after which his hands carelessly dropped to his sides. There was blood. So much blood. His breathing started to quicken once again and he hadn't realized that his legs were shaking. What the hell was going on? He could see the patient's headless body and – he felt as if time itself stopped when the huge monstrosity holding the head looked at him right _through_ his eyes.

He shakily put his hand on his mouth, clutching his face for dear life as he struggled not to vomit, not being able to look away.

He knew exactly who this was. Everyone knew – it didn't matter if they were new or old at the Asylum. He realized that this _beast_ was _Chris _fucking _Walker._ The monster every single patient there was afraid of, some even feared him more than the Walrider. _With good fucking reason_, he thought as he took a step back in denial. How could he weasel himself out of this situation?

Swiftly looking around, his heart ready to jump out of his throat, he jumped to the door and tried to push it open. When it didn't budge, he took a few steps back and shoved himself against it, kept punching, kicking – just _anything _to escape this goddamn hell.

A few moments later, he looked at the other cell and stopped his struggles with the door. Chris Walker wasn't there anymore.

He stared at it for a good few minutes, wondering if he had hallucinated everything. Maybe it was one of the shitty tests? But the blood was still there along with the headless body. The head, though, was nowhere to be seen. He shut his eyes, rubbing one of them as he continued to push the door with his other hand. When he looked straight again, the monster was there, so _close_, staring at him once again with his fucked up face.

Aidan couldn't help the scream that tore itself out of his throat before he fell backwards on his ass, trying to crawl away as fast as he could. _Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit._ Walker even looked like he was grinning because of the missing skin around his mouth. _Who the fuck would let him out?!_

His whole body stiffened when he heard (and practically felt) the way he punched the door, making the whole room vibrate from the huge force. The glass was designed to be stronger than him, he wanted to believe. It was designed just for these kinds of situations, right?

Shutting his eyes when he heard a loud crack, ready to get killed in the most gruesome way, he felt as if he would die from fear. It hurt to breathe, it hurt to _exist_ right then and he regretted with all his heart and soul the actions that lead him to this place.

He hit one of the corners of the room with his back and pulled his legs close to his chest as he desperately tried to hide his face, knowing it would be in vain.

He was fucked. There was no way he could get out of this alive. It was painful to think that way, but he didn't care anymore. He just wanted it to end. He realized he deserved such a death for being the shitty person he was. He thought of his ex girlfriend then, before he… before he – A loud shattering of glass was heard and he bit his tongue hard enough to draw blood. He didn't want to scream, he just wanted to fucking die already. It was agonizing to wait.

Slightly opening his eyes, just enough to see the huge figure in front of him, and the lifeless head in one of his hands, he closed them again and grit his teeth, waiting for his death after he heard a low, growling voice.

"I found you, Little Pig."


End file.
